


Curiosity

by Wireslide



Series: Fifty Ships [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bio-luminescence, Hunk is a good wingman, Inappropriate use of shapeshifting, Lotoa Really Enjoys Kissing, Lotoa means ever-burning light, Lotor means villain, M/M, Rimming, Rough sex has Consequences™, guess which one is not a name parents would give their child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 21:18:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16961652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wireslide/pseuds/Wireslide
Summary: Lance is sore and curious about Lotor.





	Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as part of a 50-50 challenge.
> 
> It seems like a direct sequel to 'Rebound,' but it is not. Enjoy More Alien Biology Lessons!
> 
> Also this was written before season 6 dropped.

Lance shifted the way he was sitting for the fourth time in as many minutes, managing to nearly knock Pidge's laptop off her lap with his knee and elbow Hunk in the ribs with the same motion. He apologized to them both sheepishly, and while Hunk just gave him a soft smile, Pidge poked him roughly in the back with her knuckle. “What is with you today, man?” She demanded. “You haven't sat still for more than three seconds at a time.”

He gave her a slightly awkward look and shifted again. “I'm a little not-sitting-comfortably today,” he said delicately. When she stared at him dully, he widened his eyes and tilted his head, until finally he sighed and rolled his eyes, burying his face in Hunk's shoulder. “Shiro fucked me a little raw last night, okay? I'm sore.” He mumbled it into Hunk, groaning when the darker man gently stroked his hair in comfort.

Across the lounge, half-sprawled on the far couch thumbing through paperwork on a lightpad, Lotor moved his legs to make more room. “Stop smacking them around and come over here where you can lie down, then,” he drawled while Pidge scrunched up her face and shook her head emphatically to clear it of the mental image Lance had given her. “There's certainly no reason at all why you should make yourself sit in pain when there's plenty of room over here. Also, it's going to make the calculations on the healing pod upgrades--”

“We're calling it the microwave now,” Hunk interrupted, “you know, like 'pop them in for a couple of minutes and ding! Paladin's ready!'”

The blond on the opposite couch only paused a moment, “The calculations on the microwave upgrade go much more slowly if you nearly knock Pidge's mobile workstation to the floor every three ticks.” He flicked through the length of a document, then finally glanced up, meeting Lance's dark blue eyes with his own calm iris-purple. “You do want to be able to heal Shiro more effectively when he pulls stupid stunts, don't you?” He assessed the younger man's blank expression for a long moment, a slow smile pulling across his narrow face. “And if you like, I could kiss you all better while we wait.”

Hunk looked down at Lance and gave him a little nudge. “There is more room over there,” he noted encouragingly.

Lance peeled his eyes away from Lotor and looked up at Hunk for a second, then sucked in a breath no one had entirely realized he'd paused. Just like that, his usual confident smirk was back on his face. “You might have to help me up, L'Oreal. I'm not walking so great.”

“I got'cha,” Hunk grunted, tightening the arm around Lance's shoulders and sweeping the other up under his knees. He stood with little effort, the blue paladin cradled bridal-style in his arms, and crossed the room to gently lay Lance across Lotor's lap. “You be nice to him,” he told the Galra emperor sternly, “or I'll feed your bones to Herschel.” He stared long enough to see the threat sink in, then turned a bright smile to Pidge. “Let's finish this up in the engineering lab, we don't wanna be here for this.” He escorted the tinier paladin towards the door, only stopping to point two fingers at his own eyes and then at Lotor.

Once the doors slid closed behind them, both Lance and Lotor started laughing. “And he wonders why everyone thinks you two are a couple!” The emperor chortled, burying his fingers in Lance's hair and humming at the texture. “I don't know why you always go on about my hair, yours is so soft. It's like Galra fur without the guard hairs.”

“Yeah, but yours is like, all sleek and shiny and goes on for _years_ ,” Lance gathered up a handful of it, watching the ends pool onto his chest.

“And _flat_ ,” Lotor pointed out with a faint jut to his lower lip, “do you know, most Alteans had that lovely tight curl like Allura has? Even Honerva had some bounce and waves. An Altean with perfectly straight hair? Unheard of.”

Confused, Lance gave him a puzzled little frown. “In all the archive pictures, King Alfor has--”

“I have it on excellent authority,” Lotor glanced towards the door, then slouched a little closer with a devilish grin, “that King Alfor straightened his hair quite painstakingly every morning.” He laughed with Lance at the mental image of the vaunted first red paladin standing shirtless in a bathroom with a flat iron for hours at a time. “It won't take to anything I try to give it volume, either—well,” he tipped his head and wrinkled his nose, “nothing that doesn't ruin its texture.”

“That'd be a pity,” the younger man mused, letting the handful of hair slide through his fingers again, “this stuff is like...hypnotic. It's like...like someone spun out starlight and made it almost liquid.” He wrinkled his nose a little at the small smile Lotor gave him. “What?”

“Of all the things I might have expected from you when I offered to go down on you, poetry about my hair was not one of them,” he gently shifted Lance back, so that the two of them could lie down comfortably, with Lance on Lotor's chest.

“Yeah? Been planning on making that offer for a while now?” Lance grinned up at him, twirling the seemingly endless strands of hair around his fingers.

“Since the first time I saw your legs,” the blond gave him a faint smirk, skimming his hand down Lance's back and to the back of one thigh to pull him up a little higher, “I have absolutely wanted to wear them for shoulderpads.” He looked down at the way they were laying, and huffed a laugh. “Or earmuffs, I suppose.”

“Why didn't you?”

The motion of his shoulder was faint. “You hated me, and I know that most humans tend to be monogamous, and ten seconds around you and Hunk was more than enough to inform me that no one else had room between the two of you if that was the case.” He kept one hand up, sliding his fingers through the soft fluff of Lance's hair. The motion seemed to unravel tension in both of them. “Also it turned out you make excellently entertaining faces when I flirt with Allura.”

Lance's cheeks immediately puffed out in one of said faces as he lifted his head again, making Lotor laugh. “You mean you were flirting with Allura to get a rise out of me?! Dude, that's low!”

“Oh, relax, Defender of Allura's Virtue,” Lotor gave him a look of dry amusement, “she was never in any danger from me. She's technically my sister, you know.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Three days after she was born, my father met hers on Daibazaal with the Crown of the Firstborn of his house, and when they were admitted to see him, he placed it on her head. She is, officially, by all recognized laws in the universe, his first child and my older sister.” He stroked Lance's hair again, humming as the smaller man traced shapes on his chest. “I will admit I have a few family issues--”

“A few!” It came out barked in a laugh.

“Be nice,” the blond chided, but he was smiling. “I have some family issues, but I'm not deranged enough to actually try to nail my sister, and yes—she was in on my baiting you.” He wrinkled his nose, and the expression earned him Lance's finger gently tracing the sudden ridges. He moved his face away, but not sharply enough to deter the lingering touch of fingers on the rest of his face. He smiled against them when they touched his lips. “Now I believe I made an offer to kiss you better.”

“Sorry, did you wanna skip right to that? I was kinda enjoying cuddling the almighty emperor of the—what is it now?”

“First of all, it's not really an empire any more so I really wish we could do away with the whole 'emperor' nonsense entirely,” he wrinkled his nose again and once more, Lance traced the expression delicately.

“You won the Kral Zera, that's divine right to rule, isn't it? You could read the words on the altar, and everything?”

He huffed. “I mean, yes, technically--”

“Then you're an emperor, no matter the size of your sector, O Great Emperor Lotoa of the—what was it again?”

He was silent, staring down at Lance in something akin to shock. “You...you used my given name.”

“Well yeah, dude, once Antok pointed out that your parents didn't actually name you 'Villain.' You could have had one of the officers you loaned us correct us, you know.”

“Fairly certain they thought you calling me by my hated adolescent nickname was a power move on your part. And it's 'of the Belesion-Ko Nebula Expansion.' Not entirely concise, but accurate. Antok told you my given name?”

“I mean, in retrospect it was probably so you didn't have to listen to your big sister's friends constantly calling you 'Actual Bad Guy.'” He looped some of that long, silken hair around his wrist and wriggled his way upwards to bump his face against the hard angle of the emperor's jaw. “'Ever-Burning Light' fits your hair better, anyway.”

“It glows a bit in the dark, you know,” he hummed thoughtfully, pulling Lance a little higher to they could look each other in the face, “it's a bit hard to tell though, because my eyes are much brighter.”

“Yeah?” Lance clicked his tongue in a predetermined pattern, and the lights suddenly faded to almost nil. He huffed a laugh against a thin cheek. “Yeah, I can't see past your eyes. You mind closing them?” His next breath came out in quiet wonder when the emperor placidly obeyed. “Holy crow, it really is made of starlight. Man, fuck you for being incredibly hot and mystical despite your shitty personality.”

“Charming as ever, Lance.”

“I have a tendency to get really weird when shit gets sexual and I didn't want you to think I'm suddenly super enamored of you or anything,” the paladin laughed, turning his head to nuzzle at a pointed ear. He hummed when the action drew a sharp hiss from the older man and lipped a bit at the edge.

“Perish the thought,” was the slightly throaty reply, “no, I understand you're just--” he interrupted himself with a voiceless huff when Lance nipped carefully at the point of his ear, “curious.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, leaning back a little to lay out Lotoa's gleaming hair and watching most of it immediately slide towards the floor, “curious. I have so many questions about your physiology and honestly most of them can be answered by seeing you naked.”

“You're going to have trouble with that if you leave the lights off.”

“I just kind of...I'm really enjoying that you really have this huge starlight cloak of hair, right now,” he punctuated the statement with a sigh and a light kiss to the emperor's jaw. “Do you uh, do you have pubes? Do they glow, too?”

The question received a low chuckle in response, and another stroke of long fingers through his hair. “It depends on how dedicated to and focused on my shapeshift that I am. Galra have sheaths, you know, and very little pubic hair despite most tribes having very thick belly fur. Causes a bit of excess friction. Alteans, though, like humans, have pubic hair, so if I focus, yes, I do.”

“Wait, if you focus?” Lance paused his attentions to the base of Lotoa's jaw. “I thought—I mean, Allura told us that the act of shapeshifting is like a 'set it and forget it,' kind of thing.” He felt the emperor's muscles tighten under his chest, though the hands petting him stayed gentle. “Sorry, that's probably not--”

“For a full-blooded Altean,” the words cascaded over his as though he hadn't even begun the apology, “I've heard it is. My mother was one of Altea's most skilled shapeshifters, and she certainly fits that category. But the Altean form that I prefer is also not necessarily optimized for all environments, and the nature of the Galra is to adapt and survive. So if you give Galra biology access to shapeshifting capabilities, it will be constantly shifting, even if just in little ways. So I have to concentrate, just a bit, at all times to hold my form.” He opened his eyes just a little to give Lance a smile. “Even while otherwise focused.”

The younger man squirmed upwards a little further, brushing his thigh between Lotoa's and grinning when the hand on his hip pulled him downward in response. He found his way to the emperor's thin mouth by feel, entirely blinded by the bright glow of his eyes. He felt the soft exhalation against his mouth, the way Lotoa's breath hitched when their lips touched, the way his hand tightened in Lance's thick, soft hair. He smiled, enjoying leading the kiss with the emperor relaxing beneath him. When he pulled back to admire the handsome blond, he was blinded again by the high shine of Lotoa's eyes, but he could see the curve of a smile beneath them.

“You do get a bit weird, don't you?” The half-breed hummed, pulling him in for another kiss almost immediately. He deepened it with enthusiasm, savoring the lingering taste of Hunk's cooking on Lance's tongue, the musky taste beneath that that made him sigh. He nipped at Lance's tongue as the younger man pulled away, and blinked when long brown fingers pulled at his top. He guided the paladin's hands in the motions to undo the clasps and closures of his uniform. The look of raw curiosity on his face once the light purple skin was exposed to the air made him smile.

Lance looked over the newly bared features of Lotoa's torso, delicately tracing them with his fingertips. Sharp ridges lined the tendons of his neck, almost but not quite bone plating, with an edge that made him frown at the sudden line of blood along his thumb. Lotoa smiled and gently kissed it away. Lance's other hand followed the open pits and ridges of gladular vents, skirting the spongy texture of the filtration tissues settled in between cartilage ridges. After several long moments of observing the blond's reactions to different areas, the paladin squinted blue eyes down at him. “...Dude. Where are your nipples?”

“Lower,” the half-Galra told him mildly, still trailing his fingers through Lance's hair, “it's the one part of Altean physiology I've never bothered emulating.”

“...Wait.” Lance leaned back a little further, not bothering to hide the reflexive and slightly nervous smile at Lotoa's quiet growl. “You have gone so far as to reclaim having seventeen separate breathing chambers, twenty-plus chemical glands, and three stomachs, but you couldn't be fucked to move your nipples?”

“Galra have at least six and up to seventeen.” He watched with amusement as Lance processed that information, blinked repeatedly, then slowly nodded and tilted his head to the side.

“Yeah, all right. That's a valid point.” He leaned back down again, sighing as Lotoa interrupted the action to pull his shirt off over his head. “What, uh. What else do Galra have more of than Alteans?”

“Nothing that has anything to do with my intentions towards you for the evening,” the blond gave him a smile and another lingering kiss, then rotated a finger to indicate that Lance change positions. He helped the younger man rise, hooking his fingers into the band of Lance's pants and helping him shimmy out of them. He caught the younger man when his knees gave out, and gently laid him back down on the couch, helping him roll onto his stomach. He dusted his fingertips over the reddened curve of Lance's ass, then leaned down to place a light kiss on one cheek. Lance jumped and hissed at the pain that followed his flinch, and it took an effort not to laugh. “This will hardly do you any good if you panic when I follow through on what I've promised you,” the emperor hummed.

“Sorry, sorry. I'm just...used to being the one helping, I guess? That seems like a really weird way to put what's happening right now...” Lance grabbed one of the small pillows and settled it under his chest, working one knee up under himself to spread himself open to the blond's attentions. He let out a shuddering breath and dropped his head when he felt the warm huff of air between his ass cheeks, shifting the way he lay so that he was spread even further, until he felt the pull of stretching out against the raw muscles.

“Perhaps if you're struggling for phraseology,” Lotoa leaned his cheek against the warm flesh framing his face, “you should stop talking.” He turned his head, dragging in a long breath through his nose and smirking when it sent a shiver up Lance's spine. He pressed his open mouth to the sore, red ring, humming quietly at the high whine he could almost feel against his lips. His tongue touched inflamed skin, traced over each crease as Lance twitched and tensed beneath him. He flexed his jaw, pushing a thick anesthetic out of a gland beneath his teeth, and smearing it onto Lance's overheated flesh with his tongue. It dragged another high whine from the paladin, then a sharp breath.

“Hey, what--” he lifted his head and looked down the length of his back, pressing his lips together when those glowing eyes met his. “What is that? It stings less.”

“Chemical anesthetic, entirely safe for almost all races,” Lotoa's faint smile was barely visible in the mostly-dark room, “almost all Galra produce it. A throwback, I suppose, to when we were more bestial and less capable of advanced medical technology.” He lowered his head back down, swiping his tongue over the puckered circle again, grinning when he heard Lance's choked whine. “Better?”

The slender man dropped his head again with a quiet curse. “Uh, yeah, that's...that's really fast acting.” He exhaled heavily when Lotoa licked him again, pressing back against the warm, wet muscle. “Oh, fuck. Are there...” he huffed again, squirming, “are those _ridges_ on your tongue?”

Lotoa hummed a confirmation, rolling his tongue against Lance again. He slid each ridge slowly against the trembling ring of muscle, pressing hard enough so that each rise almost entered him before slipping past and wringing sharp, high gasps from Lance's mouth. He heard the fabric of the couch creak, tightened his grip on Lance's hips, and traced the edges with the tip of his tongue. He rolled the taste around in his mouth a little, rubbing his face against the curve of one spread asscheek. “Now, this just makes the ban on interacting with humanity entirely unfair,” he murmured, “surely every Galra should want to know this flavor.”

Lance shuddered again, pressing his open mouth to the couch and trying desperately not to throw himself back against the singular feeling of Lotoa's mouth. “Careful,” he panted, swallowing a breathless laugh, “I'll start thinking you actually like me, L'Oreal.”

“Perish the thought,” the emperor crooned, amused, “I still find you hardly tolerable, I do promise. But after this I fear I may on occasion succumb to the urge to drag you away and repeat this particular event.” He prevented an immediate witty comeback on Lance's behalf by turning his head and pressing his tongue forward again, circling the muscle once more before pressing past the spasm of resistance to taste the thick heat behind. He drew his tongue back slowly, ridges all but ticking from the twitching confinement.

It took a moment for Lance's yowl to die down into a high whine over which he could speak. “Amazing. An entire couch to muffle yourself into, and you'd prefer to gather the attention of everyone in the Castle to our activities. Exhibitionist streak much, Lance?” He couldn't contain his grin, pressing it against the paladin's skin so he could share the mirth. “Did you perhaps want Shiro to come watch? We could comm him--”

“No!” Lance's head snapped up, and his hips tilted sharply away from Lotoa. “Fuck. I'll be quieter. I'll...try.” He relaxed back at the silent stroke to his hip, biting his lip as he felt Lotoa's breath against him again. He swallowed the keen that bubbled up in his throat as that tongue—and oh, he was going to be thinking about the details of that damned thing for _months—_ pushed slowly, bump by bump, back into him and twisted from side to side.

He felt like he was caught in a whirlpool, head swimming with each shift and twist of Lotoa's tongue. He parted his legs further, trying to balance well enough on one hand to work the other down beneath himself. Lotoa beat him to it, long fingers closing comfortably around his length and stroking him, surprising a short, quickly-stifled shriek at the teasing touch of clawtips around the edge of his foreskin. He gave in with a moan, arms and legs trembling as he rocked between the emperor's sword-calloused palm and the slick ridges of the tongue inside him. He turned his face to breathe easier as his arms started to give out, repeating Lotoa's name like a desperate plea—the slow pace was the best and worst kind of torture.

He dug his fingers into the fabric of the couch and whimpered, thrusting back a little harder against Lotoa's face. He felt, more than heard, the man's soft laugh, and suddenly the tongue inside of him was longer, pressing deeper, widening to stretch and finally finding the soft bundle of nerves that made Lance screech again. He didn't bother muffling it this time, enthusiastically thrusting back and then forward again into the hand squeezing his length. He wasn't entirely sure when Lotoa had slicked down his hand, but some part of his brain—the part that wasn't melting—was grateful for the other man's forethought.

He lost track of how much time was passing or how much noise he was making, losing himself in each sensation with abandon. He never saw the broad-shouldered shadow that briefly darkened the doorway, or the smugly pleased glance that Lotoa's glowing eyes shot its way. The heat inside of him surged at the light scrape of tooth and claw against oversensitized skin; he came with a sharp cry of Lotoa's name and a deeply-buried mental apology to Coran about the new stain sure to set into the couch. He gasped for breath as Lotoa covered his bare ass with a blanket and stood, settling his clean hand on Lance's shoulder.

“I'll be right back,” he assured the paladin, “try to straighten your legs out as soon as you can.” He left the lounge to search for some kind of oral rinse and a cleaner for the couch, and had only passed three doors by the time Shiro came back to hand them to him. He gave the black paladin a smile, taking the items with one hand and pressing his sticky fingers to Shiro's lips. He watched the former gladiator lick them clean with that same smug air, then slid them, damp but no longer sticky, into the hair at the base of Shiro's neck to pull him into a deep, thorough kiss.

Shiro was panting when Lotoa released him, pupils wide with lust. He licked his lips for every last trace of the taste of Lance before he wrenched himself from the emperor's grasp. He flicked his gaze back over Lotoa's shoulder, swallowed, and turned on his heel to all but flee down the hallway.

Lotoa hummed cheerfully to himself as he returned to care for the blissed out blue paladin he'd left behind.

 


End file.
